


Red String of Fate

by Matori_Holmes



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Basically Rambling, Fitz is NOT Ward, Fitz is just unhealthy, Gen, I Don't Even Know, mentions of self-abuse, nothing graphic, spoilers for episode 5x14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 13:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matori_Holmes/pseuds/Matori_Holmes
Summary: Jemma never believes in red strings of fate or angels. So what to do when they suddenly came into your dream, telling you you're in a coma?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, episode 14 ruins a lot of a people, I'm sure. I'm not saying that Fitz is a bad person but sometimes we do things due to peer pressure. Peer pressure is hard to run away from, most of the time. And let's be honest, sometimes people find happiness in people's pain.

“Hello.”

The voice was warm, comforting, and it reminded Jemma of someone she met long ago. She blinked her eyes open and found a girl, merely at the age of 12, smiling at her with toothy grin. At least Jemma assumed this person was a girl and a child due to the long hair, feminine looks, and height.

“You’re actually in a coma right now.”

Jemma jolted up and found herself wearing the same clothes she wore when . . . when Fitz. . . 

She tried to say something yet no voice came out.

“Oh darling,” the person said with a chuckle, “I know what you want to ask. Apologies for taking your voice, I work better when the other end don’t talk nonsense. Not that you would talk nonsense, mind you, I simply find myself losing focus in my purpose when the other end talks.” They (Jemma decided not to give gender for this person) cleared their throat before sitting down, facing her.

Only then Jemma realized she was lying on a bed, in a corner less white room, and just with this person. How long has she been in coma?

“2 days,” they said, patting Jemma’s hand. Their hand was warm and very light, it was like putting your hand near enough to feel the warmth of fireplace but far enough not to burn yourself. “You’re wondering who I am, yes?” They smiled, their brown eyes sparkled.

“Do you believe in the red string of fate? I assume not.” Jemma gave a small frown for it seemed like they’re trying to confuse her. First they said she was in a coma, second they claim to know what she wanted to ask, and now they’re talking about nonsense. “I assure you, Anne,” Jemma felt a jolt of familiarity, for only one person called her by her middle name, “red string of fate is not nonsense.”

“The red string connects many people; lovers, friends, family, even strangers who will help you whether directly or indirectly. Some strings break and some hold on until the end of their time. You had a strong friendship one with a girl back in England, when you were 12.” Jemma blinked back the tears. “Yes, it must be difficult when a friend die at young age. She always called you Anne instead of Jemma or Simmons, did she not?” Jemma nodded.

“Now I was human too. I was born in the country that has many islands but my father got transferred to Glasgow and my mom and I had to follow him, thus I started at a new school and meet new people.” Jemma could feel her heart beating rapidly. “Yes, I was a friend of Leopold Fitz.” They sighed.

“You see, my dear, I knew Leopold Fitz since we were 6 and became friends when we were 8. He was a nice boy but he had some trouble. He was always so shy and hiding himself. He always wore long sleeves whether the weather was cold or unbearably hot. He let me borrow his bike when I wanted to skip class, we were 7 at that time,” they chuckled, shaking their head, “that was how our friendship born.”

“Eventually, I grew tired of how he relented easily. So I bugged him; asked him questions about his family, whether he has friends, and what he does on weekends. He was actually scared of answering me, he later admitted to me after finally answering some of my questions.” Jemma couldn’t help but smile softly, thinking of little Fitz getting asked by them. What was their name?

“Oh! My name is . . . well, I don’t exactly remember but the other angels always call me Kitalpa, oddly enough.” Angels? “Ah, yes,” they—Kitalpa—chuckled, “when we die, we become angels and we are able to see these so called red strings.” Jemma felt it hard to believe. Then again, this was a dream after all.

“You can believe that it’s a dream, I won’t mind. I’m not like the other angels.” Kitalpa moved to the foot of the bed. “Now, let’s see,” Kitalpa sighed, “where was I? Oh, right, Fitz and my friendship. While he answered what his hobbies were; reading about monkeys and basically reading a lot of things, he never answered when I ask about his family. Eventually, I found out why he wore such long sleeves to school.” A sad yet angry look appeared on Kitalpa’s face. “There were markings from sharp glasses and knives. The latter was self-inflicted.”

Jemma took a sharp breath. Fitz never told her about this. He only ever told how his father abused him when he was younger. He never told her about that.

“Yes, you see I knew what your Fitz went through more than you but now I am nothing but a shadow in the world of solid matter.” Kitalpa looked up. “According to one of the elder angels, mind you they don’t look old but they’re more experienced than any of us, I had a strong friendship red string with Fitz. I did help him stop hurting himself. I couldn’t do much on stopping his father; I was a girl and still very young. My mother on the other hand was able to heal some of the scars on his arms after I begged him to have it checked by my mother.”

Kitalpa lifted up her hand and with a flick, a flower appeared in her hand. “This is a Japanese Peace Lily; my grandmother used to plant in her garden. I remember it vaguely. This was also the flower that Fitz placed on my grave when I died two years after his father left him.”

How did she die? Jemma questioned.

“I fell to a river. It was winter; I was a stupid 12 years old who wanted to go skating quickly. The ice wasn’t thick enough yet and I was alone and I had no idea how to swim. The ice cracked beneath my feet and I wasn’t quick enough.” She crushed the flower lightly and they disappeared into small tiny specks. “Hypothermia; they found my body 6 hours later.”

Jemma reached out to touch Kitalpa’s shoulder but she had to retract her hand quickly for it was very hot. “Apologies,” Kitalpa said, “Angels are created from light and light is actually hotter than fire. We can control our warmth when we touch you but not when you touch us.”

Jemma wondered why she was communicating with Kitalpa and Kitalpa nodded, hearing her silent question.

“This red string of yours with Fitz is stronger than any red strings I ever encountered. I know what happened to both of you for I am after all, Fitz’s guardian angel. But I do have to tell you dear, Fitz still has a secret from you.” Kitalpa reached out to cup Jemma’s hands and their brown eyes met.

“My dear, after my death, Fitz got bullied again. He was after all in school with older peers. So when a new student arrived, instead of accepting him with open arms, Fitz bullied the boy. Now after a death, a red string can still connect and the one in the afterlife could feel pain, anger, joy, and comfort that the one in the solid matter world felt. I felt his pain and anger when he was bullied and when he was bullying. I felt his comfort when his mother told him that he will be an amazing person one day.”

Kitalpa gulped and closed her eyes with a sigh before looking at her again. “This one would be hard to swallow, Jemma.” Kitalpa’s hand warmed hers than before and somehow it comforted Jemma.

“After a few weeks, Fitz felt joy from bullying the new student. I eventually begged to God to cut my red string from Fitz instead of waiting it to fall off like others do. I also made a deal with God, for me to come to his dream and put some senses into him.

“God agreed as long as I do not ask to go back to become solid matter. So I came to him and told him that hurting people won’t do any good.” Kitalpa gritted her teeth. “And I told him that . . . abusing people will only change him into his father. I remembered how he shook after he woke up from the dream. How he became the Fitz I knew again.”

Jemma thanked Kitalpa silently.

“You see Jemma, even before you two met, the red string was there. It was starting to fade when he felt joy in bullying the boy but it became strong again after that day. So you see, you made him into a good man. Yes, his father could make him into a great man; a man with high position and well-known to people but it’s better to be a good man rather than a great man.”

Kitalpa let go her hands and there was a sudden chill that washed over Jemma’s body.

“Now I need you to wake up. You fainted after finding out about who Deke was to you and Fitz. Not to mention you’re pregnant. You need to wake up.”

 

* * *

 

Jemma gasped as she found herself in the med bay and May was already there, rushing to her, the look of concern on her face.

“Fitz,” Jemma croaked out and May’s face hardened slightly. “He’s fine,” May told her, “and Daisy already told us what happened when we were gone.” Jemma shook her head, still confused. There was so much already to process.

Fitz and his dual personality, Deke admitting that he was their grandchildren, she puked (she was pregnant!), and then that girl in her vague dream . . . an angel who was Fitz’s childhood friend?

She has to be strong. She has to change the future, not alone, but together; with him and her friends.

Jemma started to get up and she choked when she saw a vague red line coming from her left wrist that was connected to May. There were other lines there too. One was fading away (she was somehow sure it was Coulson’s), the other five had the same color like May’s, and there was two red line that glared.

_The red string connects many people; lovers, friends, **family**._

“Simmons,” May called out, “Are you alright?” Jemma nodded slowly, her eyes not leaving the wrist.

She knew where the two glaring lines were connected to.

Jemma blinked her eyes a few times and then it disappeared, just like that.  


	2. Every Light Needs a Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now it's Jemma's guardian angel's turn to visit Fitz and tell him what he should know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I'm actually confused with those who left kudos. Did you guys accidently punched it? Anyway, I decided to make a counterpart for this. Though there is no mention of red strings of fate.

“Finally you’re asleep.”

Fitz blinked a few times, familiarizing his surroundings. Where was he?

“I call it the waiting room.”

Only then Fitz noticed a person, a little girl, standing across him and that he was sitting in a chair. She waved at him with a small smile. Warmth just seemed to be coming out of her. Her hair was blonde and her eyes were dark green. Fitz tried to say something but no voice came out.

“Calm down, you’re not dead yet. Well, technically sleeping makes human dead but not forever.” She rolled on the balls of her feet before standing straighter. “My name, the name the other angels give me, is Lepus. Yes, I am an angel and I don’t need you to believe in me so I can be here. As long as there are people who believe in angel, angels can still live.”

Fitz tried to get up from the chair yet he could not. The girl, angel, whatever it was, placed her hands on his shoulders. He was surprised at the warmth that went all over him for it felt like the warmth when he drinks hot cocoa made by his mother. “You need to calm yourself, Fitz. I should tell you why I am here.”

She pulled her hands away and the warmth disappeared. “I am Anne-I mean, Jemma’s guardian angel. Now, just because I said guardian angel, it doesn’t exactly means I can guard her. I am but a light in the naked eyes of human being. We simply follow the person and make sure they don’t fall into the wrong way . . . but sometimes, we can’t do that.”

Fitz frowned. Well, does he have a guardian angel? He thought with a sneer.

“You do have one, Fitz. In fact, your guardian angel is visiting Jemma.” He tensed. “Your guardian angel is your first friend and she—the right wording should be ‘it’ considering us angels don’t have gender anymore—has been your guardian angel since you were 12.”

Katelin.

He felt his stomach seemed to twist. Katelin was his guardian angel? The last time he saw Katelin was in one of his dreams where she told him to stop bullying the new student . . . where she told him that he could turn into his father if he kept doing that.

Lepus placed a hand on his arm and the horrible feeling flew away. “While we can make you feel comfortable by holding you, we also feed off your emotions. We can’t really feel anymore unless we have a solid matter to feed off from.” She pulled her hand away.

“But we’re not here to talk about angels. We’re here to talk about Jemma, about a few things you haven’t know from Jemma. I was a little girl and I befriended her despite our different backgrounds.” Lepus walked around for a moment before facing him. “You do know how her childhood was, yes?” Fitz nodded.

Jemma wasn’t much different from him. While Fitz had abusive father and hard working mother, Jemma’s father had a lot of debts and her mother could only do so little to help due to her limited education. That was why Jemma strived to be better.

“Yes, her father’s company got bankrupt,” Lepus said, “and he had many debts to pay while her mother worked here and there to pay a lot of things; rent, school tuition, food. What you did not know was her father always shout curses to her mother and even physically abuse the woman . . . but he never hurt Jemma.” Lepus sighed while Fitz could imagine how difficult it was to see her parents being abusive and getting abused.

“I was a girl from a rich family and I had everything within reach. I couldn’t help myself but be curious of Jemma Anne Simmons, the girl who always hid herself in the library at lunch time. So I asked her if she wanted to be my friend. She has some friends too, but they seemed to just want to copy off homework. I was smart, mind you, despite being a rich kid.

“I was a very, very, curious child and I stalked her, once, until she got home. That’s how I found out about her parents.” Lepus started to walk around again, even jumping slightly. “Jemma never told you, did she? How she grabbed at every opportunity of scholarship since she was 7 years old.” Fitz shook his head slowly. Well, he knew she always looked around for scholarship but she never told him how young she was since she started.

“You also never knew that the only reason her parents tried to work their marriage was because of her. Can you guess how many times I offered to help pay her school tuition after I found out about her condition? 423 times; every day for at least 3 times since we were 8, I stopped trying when we turned 10, considering she was doing very well on her own,” Lepus chuckled and shook her head. “Oh yes, I counted the many times she rejected my help. The most annoying part of it all was that she rejected it kindly!” Lepus laughed slightly before walking around again. It was starting to make Fitz dizzy.

“Sorry, walking around is the only way I know to get rid of the human emotions I fed off from you.” Lepus eventually stopped and sighed. She was looking up; her green eyes seemed to show sorrow. “Listen, Fitz, you can’t always think that Jemma was never evil.” Fitz wanted to protest but he could only frown.

“Fitz,” Lepus said, her voice calm yet exasperated, “don’t tell me that Jemma never thought about killing Ward and almost did.” Fitz closed his eyes tightly at that. Yes, he remembered when she suggested and almost did use the splinter bomb to make Ward . . . disappear, but he is just like Ward now. “You’re not like Ward, Fitz.”

Lepus jumped around a few times before shivering. “Finally,” she mumbled. “Fitz, you would point a gun at the people you love but only because you’re threatening them out of care. Grant Ward on the other hand would point a gun at the people he loves and he’s not scared to pull the trigger straight to the head.”

Fitz shook his head defiantly. Lepus, finally not constrained by human emotion could not be angered or disappointed.

“Let’s review what happened in the Framework,” Lepus said with flat tone. “You knew deep down you cared about Jemma, that’s why you can’t shoot her in the head, instead you shot her at the knee first.” What about Agnes? He screamed in his mind. “The demon was there, wasn’t she?” Lepus said, “The demon stood right in front of you and Kitalpa—your guardian angel—could only do so much when there’s a demon around.”

Fitz still didn’t want to believe it. Also, why was Katelin’s name changed into Kitalpa?

“If someone calls out our real name when we visit them, we’ll disappear forever into Heaven,” Lepus told him, “that’s why Grant Ward lost his guardian angel. He called out his name when the angel visited him. He had no angel anymore. That’s why Kitalpa didn’t let you speak when she visited you.”

This was all just a dream. This . . . Lepus was probably a passing face he saw long ago and now being his conscience.

“Jemma will always be your conscience,” Lepus said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Jemma will always love you even when you went Anakin in the Framework.” She smiled and Fitz felt comfort again before she pulled away. “Now why did I touch you? I have emotions again, how disturbing,” she grumbled, “well, what I’m trying to say is, no one is never evil. Your friend, Amadeus Ravenclaw Hunter, was correct. Every light needs a shadow. Or at least every light in human needs a shadow.”

Lepus jumped before sitting down on the floor, hugging her knees while staring at him. “Daisy stole a lot of things when she was young. Mack’s aunt was a prostitute. Elena’s mother always said that she was slow and weak-minded. May rarely spend time with her mom who worked in CIA since she was very young, resulting her to be a brash child. Coulson’s mom died young and his dad buried himself in work, thus Coulson learned how to be independent since young. 

See, all of you are broken people but together? Together you became something wonderful and strong. How did you make all those toys when you were a child? You took apart the broken things, take the good things from it, and found a way to mix it together into something wonderful. All the guardian angels shared everything with one another for the last 5 human years so we know everything of each of you.

“So you just have to learn to control it like your friend said so, Fitz; for Jemma and for your child’s sake.”

Fitz tensed at last few words; he was having a child?! Jemma was pregnant?

“Yes she is. So when you wake up, I need you to be strong, your friends need you to be strong. Like she said, make harder choices. She and your friends know you can do that, I, too, know you can.”

 

* * *

 

 

Fitz woke up with a start. How long was he asleep?

“Fitz,” he heard the usual flat tone of May’s coming from the behind the glass. He looked at her and saw her strong stance.

_May rarely spend time with her mom who worked in CIA since she was very young, resulting her to be a brash child._

_You just have to learn to control it like your friend said so, Fitz; for Jemma and for your child’s sake._

Those words echoed in his mind. “Jemma,” he croaked out, “how is she? How’s Daisy? How’s Mack?”

“They’re okay,” May answered briskly and he nodded. “So you know what happened, I guess?” May didn’t answer, but as he looked closely, there was actually concern in her poker face.

“Fitz, you can talk about it. You should’ve talked about it to us.”

_I need you to be strong; your friends need you to be strong. Like she said, make harder choices._

“Yeah,” he said, “I’ll talk about it.”

“Jemma wants me to tell you that,” May took a deep breath before exhaling. “The steps you take don’t need to be big—“

“They just need to take you in the right direction.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One word I can give to myself: Weird. Like, I don't even . . . Why did I write this? Well, I just . . . Wanted to, I guess.

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I JUST WROTE. My mind probably crashed. Just, thanks for those who bothered to read this . . . odd fanfic.


End file.
